Calypso
by soundofthebirdsongs
Summary: Snape survived Nagini's bite and has been unconscious since. Then, a woman claiming to be his daughter visits him right before he wakes. Meanwhile, Harry Potter is helping round up the remaining Death Eaters, who all want to know where Voldemort's favorite lady is. Harry, in the midst of it all, has many questions, but his biggest one is: Who is Calypso Snape?
1. Prologue

Harry Potter ran down the hall toward the familiar room. The wards on his charge's room had tripped, and no one had bothered to notify him. He couldn't believe the staff's carelessness. They may not have liked the man, but Severus Snape was a hero, and now that everyone knew he had betrayed Voldemort, he needed protection from the escaped Death Eaters. That was the whole point of the wards, the whole point of only allowing certain people around him. How could St. Mungo's allow this!

The door was open when he reached it. Inside was silent, deathly silent. Harry hoped he wasn't too late. He slipped in the room and breathed a sigh of relief. Snape was still alive. The unknown visitor had pulled a chair to his bedside and sat with their back to Harry. The were wearing a dark cloak with the hood upon their head, obscuring anything that could have hinted who they were. Harry made a small noise to let them know he was there. They remained rigid and still. "I asked to be left alone."

A female. Harry's eyes widened. "You… You're not supposed to see him without permission," he said finally.

The woman sat up even straighter. "Permission?" She spat the word, and Harry felt the air grow cold. "I need permission to visit my own father?"

"Ma'am, Professor Snape has no children."

The woman turned to look at him. Surely, this woman was no kin to Snape. She looked nothing like him: light hair, light eyes, delicate features. Indeed the only thing that seemed to link them was the familiar scowl on her face. "Obviously he does." Her head turned back to the unconscious man. "How long has he been like this?"

Harry was momentarily surprised at the sudden change, both of topic and in her voice. The coldness left the room, and her voice became almost tender. She cared for him, or at least, she appeared to. Still, he didn't know for sure what her intentions were. "Nearly six months, since the Final Battle," he answered softly.

"And he still hasn't woken? Father, you are not usually so idle," she teased the older man. She rose from her seat, and Harry could see the slightest smile on her face. "I'll come back when you're ready to wake, Father." She bent down and kissed the man's pale cheek. With that, she swept past Harry and down the hall, disappearing with a crack once she reached the end of it.


	2. Chapter 1

It had been a miracle that Severus Snape survived the Second Wizarding War. In fact, Harry, Hermione, and Ron could have sworn they saw him die in the Shrieking Shack. Instead, as they later realized, they saw him lose consciousness. It was shocking, to say the least, when Bill Weasley, who'd been sent to retrieve the body, came back with a faintly breathing but very much alive potion master.

That had been seven months ago, and the former headmaster had laid in St. Mungo's ever since. The Healers had just barely managed to stabilize him and placed him in a potion-induced coma while he healed. When no family stepped forward, Harry Potter himself took responsibility for the other man. Before long, Harry got wrapped into hunting down the Death Eaters that had evaded capture. He ended up warding the older man's room to prevent any of the uncaptured Death Eaters from harming the man that had betrayed their master. He made it a point to visit the man at least once a week, during which he would tell him about what was happening in the Wizarding World. He told him of all the new captures, the reconstruction of Hogwarts, hell, he'd even read aloud from a potions magazine. His topics of conversation rarely ventured to his life. He figured that if the man could hear him, he definitely wouldn't care about Harry's personal life, so he stuck to small talk and the like.

It had been three weeks since the woman claiming to be Snape's daughter had visited. Following that, his condition seemed to have improved a bit. The Healers still weren't sure when he would wake, but his breathing had grown stronger and he had twitched a few times. She hadn't returned since then, and Harry wondered when she would. In the meantime, Harry had scoured every resource he had for some mention of Snape's daughter. He'd looked through Hogwarts enrollment. He'd asked Dumbledore's portrait, but the old man had waved him off without ever actually answering the question. He'd even asked Order members, but they hadn't helped him much. No one had seen Snape with a woman, definitely not long enough for him to have fathered a child. But then again, no one had really cared either.

Harry was sitting at Snape's bedside on the first Thursday of December, telling the man about how the greenhouses at Hogwarts were finally back to normal, when the woman appeared in the doorway. Harry stopped mid-sentence.

A smirk played on the woman's lips. "Hello," she said after a moment. Her voice was much warmer than last time, and she had swapped the heavy cloak for a simple black robe, which she had left open, revealing casual Muggle attire.

Harry's mind raced with questions for her. Why did she and Snape bear no resemblance? When was she born? She looked a few years older than him, so how was she born when Snape was still at Hogwarts? Who was her mother? Who was she? And where had she been? Why did she wait six months before visiting her father?

The woman stepped into the room and stood at the other side of the bed. "You want to know who I am, don't you?" She sounded amused. Harry could only nod, and her smirk took full form. "Calypso Snape." She held her hand out over the bed.

Harry gave her a small smile. "Harry Potter," he said, shaking her hand.

When they separated, Calypso turned to her father and put a hand on her hip. Her robe shifted and Harry took careful note of the wand tucked into the waistband of her jeans. She blinked at him and smirked again as she realized what he was looking at. "No need to worry, Mr. Potter. I do not wish to harm anyone in this room." She turned her attention back to Snape, reaching out and moving a bit of hair away from his face. "He looks much better."

Harry stiffened as she touched his charge. Even if she was really Snape's daughter, he didn't quite trust her. "Yes, he does," he agreed.

The woman laughed, a small, tinkling sound. "Mr. Potter, you really needn't be so tense. I assure you I do not wish to harm you. I have to thank you for caring for my father while I was unable to." She looked down at the man in the bed. "But now, really, Father. I think you've had quite enough time to recuperate."

The man twitched and groaned. He lay still for a few moments before his breathing shifted. His mouth opened before he spoke in a deep, gravelly voice. "Oh, have I?"

The woman smiled, her eyes lighting up, and Harry could have sworn her golden hair glowed. "Father!"

"Calypso," he said softly. His daughter beamed at him.

Calypso looked at the other man in the room, whose jaw had dropped. "Mr. Potter, could you please fetch a Healer and tell them the good news?" She asked sweetly.

"O-of course," Harry said, standing and nearly stumbling in his eagerness to alert a Healer.

Father and daughter watched him leave. "What is Potter doing here?"

Calypso looked down at the man. "It seems you've been in his care, Father."

"Bloody hell."

* * *

By the end of the week, Snape was given a clean bill of health, and the St. Mungo's was glad to see him go. They'd much preferred him unconscious as opposed to the snarky and cold man that had taught half of them. After waking, he had all but kicked Harry out of the room with no more than a curt thank you dragged out of him by Calypso. However, that hadn't deterred Harry. He'd come back a few times after that, wanting to know how his former charge was recovering. Calypso rarely left her father's side, and she and Harry had conversed every time he visited, though their chats never went beyond tense small talk. Harry wanted to ask her his questions, but between Snape and the general uneasiness he felt around Calypso stopped him. He still wasn't sure he believed she was his offspring, but as Snape seemed normal and comfortable around her, he didn't push.

Eight days after he'd woken, Snape was released into Calypso's care. Harry had seen them off, and the woman had given him a brilliant smile as the two disapperated.

Father and daughter reappeared on the edge of a thick wood. Before was a clearing where sat a small cabin. "He placed a tracking spell on you," Snape said as the two walked through the light snow to the porch.

"He tried to," Calypso corrected, opening the front door.

"Very good." Snape stepped into the house, looking around the cozy sitting room. "So, this is where you've been hiding all these months?" Snape raised an eyebrow at her. Calypso only nodded before gesturing for him to sit and disappearing into the kitchen. She returned after a few moments and placed a cup of tea in front of him.

"I purchased it two years ago. It has all the standard wards, but I've also made it Unplottable. I prepared a room for you earlier this week, and once you're feeling better, I'll show you my lab." Calypso sat in the armchair beside him. The two talked for a while longer before she showed him around the rest of the cabin.

At the end of the tour, Snape stood in the sitting room, looking at her various knick knacks. "Calypso?"

"Yes, Father."

"It suits you," he said after a while.


	3. Chapter 2

**I delayed posting this a little bit so that it could go up on Severus' birthday. Also I made a tiny edit to the last chapter. None of you probably would've even noticed, but I did, and it kinda messed with some of this chapter. Feel free to try and figure out what it was lol. Sorry for any confusion!**

* * *

In the early hours of Christmas Day, Harry Potter found himself in an interrogation room. His elbows rested on the table, and he, for all his effort, looked relaxed. Inside, he was between terror at who was sitting across from him and joy at having caught him. It did please some part of him that the man had not had an easy time evading the Ministry. The man was haggard, far thinner than Harry recalled, his hair far grayer, and the lines of his face far more pronounced. Still, he grinned at Harry, and the younger man had to resist the urge to shudder.

In front of him was Antonin Dolohov, a notoriously cruel Death Eater. The same Death Eater that had wounded Hermione in the Department of Mysteries, the same one that killed Remus in the Final Battle. "Harry Potter! The Boy-Who-Lived himself, what an honor," the man mocked.

"Mr. Dolohov," Harry replied evenly. "I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Oh? And what makes you think I'd answer?"

"Because if you give me information that leads to an arrest, I will make sure you spend the rest of your days away from the Dementors," the Auror offered.

Dolohov cackled. The sound made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck raise. "But I'll still be locked up all the same."

"Surely, there is someone else you wish to see meet the same fate."

The older man eyed him before smirking. "Perhaps… what of Snape? Has he been arrested?"

"Severus Snape has already faced the Wizengamot." He had been pardoned, of course, but Dolohov did not need to know that.

"Hmph, I'll take it he got what was coming to him. Rookwood? Last I heard, he was somewhere in France."

"Rookwood is already detained."

"Have you got the girl yet?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "Bellatrix Lestrange is dead, and Alecto Carrow is in Azkaban."

"No, the _girl_. Brat always showed up late and stood with the Dark Lord," Dolohov hissed.

"What's her name?"

"I don't know. The Dark Lord only referred to her as Daughter."

* * *

" _Daughter_ ," Harry muttered as he wandered between the shelves of the Ministry's records. "Does everyone suddenly have a daughter?" It didn't take him long to find Voldemort's file. It was unsurprisingly thick, but he already had a vague idea of its layout, having seen it before. He flipped past the documents of his crimes and doings, eliminating a good chunk. _Family, there we are,_ he thought.

Voldemort, having come from an old pureblood family on his mother's side, had a massive documented family tree. In fact, if he felt like counting, Harry could've calculated just how distantly related he and the former Dark Lord were. But that wasn't important right now; what was important was that Voldemort had no listed offspring. His closest living relative was a fourth cousin thrice removed.

 _Unless he didn't want her documented,_ Harry thought suddenly. The thought made his mind wander to his former professor and his newly revealed daughter. Was Calypso registered as Snape's daughter? He'd tried to access the Ministry records before, but it wasn't case-related, so he couldn't get approval from his supervisor. Now, well, he was already there, who'd know if he peeked at a file that he _technically_ wasn't supposed to.

Harry skittered down a few more aisles until he found the potion master's file, also quite thick. Again, he flipped through the majority of his file until he reached Snape's family tree. The Princes dominated the page, and Harry skimmed the names until he finally spotted Snape's. A wave of emotions flooded him as his eyes drifted down and read the name. Calypso Snape. Harry was, more than anything, relieved. He could feel the tension leave his body. Calypso had been telling the truth; she really was Snape's daughter. He felt infinitely better about allowing Snape to leave with her. He was also relieved that, despite no one having heard of her, she was still listed, meaning that if Voldemort did have some secret offspring, they would likely still appear in his file. Then again, he had at one point controlled the Ministry. Surely if he had wanted to, he could've edited his file?

Harry decided that thought could addressed later as he noticed something peculiar. Calypso had no mother. _Perhaps_ , he thought, _Snape never married her mother_. Peeking at nearby files, he spotted Calypso's. He quickly flipped to her family tree, which turned out to be identical to Snape's. Where was her mother? She had to have one. Not even magic could produce a child with one parent, much less one that looked so different from said parent. He glanced at the document behind the family tree, and it all fell into place.

A certificate of adoption.

 _Of course!_ Harry could have smacked himself. That's why they looked nothing alike; that's how she looked too old for Snape to have logically fathered her. _She was adopted._

Feeling much better than when he'd entered, Harry strolled out of the records. He stopped at the desk outside. "Sorry to make you come in on Christmas, Miss Wright," he told the woman sitting at it.

She smiled at him. "Think nothing of it, Mr. Potter. There's still plenty of time for the festivities."

Harry glanced at the clock and saw that it was five in the morning. "Still though, you get home and enjoy the day. Happy Christmas," he said with a smile of his own.

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Potter," the record-keeper replied.

Harry flooed to the Burrow, where he'd been staying since the end of the war, and managed to get an extra four hours of sleep before Ron had dragged him out of bed for breakfast. The holiday passed in a blur. That night, however, after everyone had left and settled for the night, Harry's thoughts returned to his early morning discoveries. "But how did no one know about her? He adopted her seventeen years ago; how did no one know in seventeen years?"

"Professor Snape is a private man. Just because it's not a well-known fact doesn't mean no one knew Harry," Hermione said.

"Yeah, an' if my dad were Snape, I wouldn't want anyone to know," Ron commented.

"Ronald!"

"What? He's still a git."

Harry watched them absently, deep in thought.

* * *

 _It almost seemed fitting that it was raining as Severus walked the muddy trail to the castle. It had been a week since Lily's death, but it had felt like years. He spent the night after that in a cell, and the night after that, and the night after that. Then, he had gone before the Wizengamot, only for Dumbledore to pardon him in ten minutes. Dumbledore had sent him home, telling him his substitute would continue to take his care of his classes for a while longer. Irritated, he had apperated home and celebrated his freedom with solitude and firewhisky in his crumbling old home._

 _However, three days after his release, he was rudely reminded that while the Dark Lord may be gone, he still had one master to obey. Dumbledore had called him back. And so he had apperated to Hogwarts' gates, ready to return to the familiar albeit infuriating routine of teaching. Cursing the old man under his breath, he muttered the password to the gargoyle and swept up the stairs._

 _Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk. "Ah, Severus, I'm so glad to see you," the man greeted jovially, eyes twinkling._

 _"Dumbledore. I assume I am to return to my post."_

 _The old man smiled. "No, not quite yet. Rubin will be covering your classes for the rest of the term."_

 _"Whatever for? What am I supposed to do in that time?"_

 _Dumbledore stood and approached him. "I have a special task for you, Severus. Her." He gestured past the younger man to the sleeping girl curled up on the settee in the corner. "She is a Muggleborn, but her name is already in the Book of Admittance. Her parents were killed two days ago. I would like you to take care of her."_

 _Severus whirled from the girl to face the Headmaster. "What?" He hissed. "Surely, there is someone more suited to raising a child. Give her to the Weasleys. Molly wants a girl, doesn't she? They would take her." Dumbledore had truly gone insane. Severus? Raise a child? The very idea was laughable. He'd spent the last two months making children twice this girl's age cry, how could he raise her any better than his father raised him?_

 _"Molly gave birth to a girl in August," Dumbledore said as if the fact answered everything._

 _"What about my post? Where is she to go when I return next term?" He was desperate to find some reason - any reason - to rid himself of the child._

 _Dumbledore grinned. "She will come here!" He made it sound so obvious, and Severus suddenly understood. The girl was a_ test _. A test perhaps of his loyalty, perhaps of his nature. Either way, it disgusted him. This child, barely past toddling, was nothing more than a pawn to the old man, a pawn he was thrusting into the care of a man known for being cruel. Then, next term, when Severus brought the girl to the school, the man would make his judgements, one way or another. Severus' shoulders slumped; there was no getting out of this. He could see it the older man's face, still smiling but now tenser, harsher somehow. He was well and truly stuck with this child._

 _"Fine," he said finally. He turned again to the little girl, who continued to sleep peacefully, clutching a stuffed pink rabbit. With a resigned sigh, he picked up the girl, who made a small noise before burrowing her face into Severus' neck._

 _Dumbledore gave him an indulgent grin. "I look forward to see the two of you again in August."_

 _Severus nodded sharply before descending the stairs once more, cursing the old man as much as he had fifteen minutes earlier._

* * *

Calypso heard the tap on the window and allowed the owl inside. The owl hooted at her as she took the note from it. She gave it a treat and watched as it flew off. Her lips formed a small smile as she realized what it was and who had sent it. She walked back into the sitting room, where her father was reading in his preferred armchair. "What was it, Calypso?" He didn't bother looking up as he asked.

"It seems we've receiving a Christmas card from Mr. Potter."

The man scowled. "Burn it."

With a tinkling laugh, Calypso approached the fireplace and set the card on the mantle.


	4. Chapter 3

Harry groaned and tilted his head back, away from the papers before him. Three Death Eaters - _three!_ \- had mentioned the mysterious "daughter" since Dolohov's capture two weeks prior. He was no closer to figuring out who she was. The only things he knew was that she attended few meetings, rarely spoke, and was only seen at Voldemort's side. Rowle had told him she was a young woman with dark hair and dark eyes, but that hadn't gotten Harry anywhere either. Another thing he knew was that the Death Eaters hated her. Selwyn said she'd disappeared last March, two months before the Final Battle. Voldemort had apparently gone on a rampage, killing some and torturing others.

Harry had been put in charge of finding her. Three weeks in, he still had no idea who she was and where she'd gone. Less of an idea, really, since he'd managed to eliminate a few candidates.

He needed something, anything. Perhaps he could get more information from someone who wasn't headed to Azkaban. Lowering his eyes back to his desk, he jotted a quick note and headed for the owlery. He sent it off, hoping that he would respond soon. Or at all. He'd received a letter from Calypso on Boxing Day thanking him for the card, but he hadn't heard from his former professor since he'd been released from St. Mungo's.

In the meantime, his supervisor gave him permission to look in the records again. He'd looked a few times, but maybe if he tried a more general search, something would come up. He greeted Miss Wright as he passed, and she smiled brightly and let him in.

Once inside, he narrowed his search. The girl was female, obviously; she was in her twenties, and she hadn't been seen since March 1998. He watched as files began to glow. He peeked down the aisles, looking for them all. There were twenty nine files total. After discarding the files that didn't match the given physical description, he was left with seven files; Zenobia Purcell, Cassandra Davies, Malva Watchorn, Helena Marshall, Evangeline Kemp, Alethea Stubbins, and Lucille Wimborne. He examined all of them, searching for some connection to the Death Eaters. There was none. The closest he'd gotten was Watchorn having been a Slytherin at Hogwarts.

Greatly disappointed, Harry put the files away. He stepped into the aisle where Alethea Stubbins' file belonged and immediately noticed a file out of place. Puzzled, he replaced Stubbins' file and walked to the disturbed one. He glanced around and made sure no documents had fallen out, then looked to see who it was. _Calypso Snape._

Who was messing with her file? He flipped through it quickly; nothing seemed out of place. He looked around, but there was no one to be found. He put the file in its proper place. Something seemed off, but he couldn't place what it was. Shaking his head, he left the records. The record keeper's smile died on her lips when she saw Harry's troubled face. "No luck, then?"

He sighed. "Unfortunately… Has anyone else accessed the records today?"

Miss Wright blinked. "Julius Gorman and Alistair Wickfield from Magical Transportation stopped by this morning with the new apparition licenses," she answered. "Why?"

"It's probably nothing. There was a file that wasn't put away properly. Everything looked in order, though."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. One of them probably disturbed it on accident." The woman's smile returned, though it seemed a little dimmer. "I'll go make sure everything else is in order. Have a good day, Mr. Potter," she added hastily before disappearing down an aisle.

* * *

The following afternoon, Harry found himself sitting across from his former professor. The man had agreed to answer his questions, which left Harry both surprised and pleased. Snape had arrived in his normal black robes and sat with his usual scowl. It was almost comforting to see that some things would never change. Harry could have laughed at how surreal it all was; it had only been two years since Snape had been his professor, but so much had changed in that time. Harry stopped that train of thought before it got too far away from him. He had a job to do, after all.

He glanced down at the papers in front of him. "I asked you here because some of the Death Eaters we've talked to have mentioned a girl," he began. "We're trying to find her, and I wanted to know if you knew anything about her."

Snape looked at the boy lazily. "A girl? You've got to be more specific than that, Potter," he said, his voice dry. "Then again, you never were interested in the details. You preferred to make accusations with as little information as you could."

Despite himself, Harry grinned. He had had that often problematic tendency. It had lessened considerably after the war, but it was still there, and Harry knew that. He just had a much more level head nowadays. "I'm afraid there aren't many details to go off of. That's why I've come to you. I've been told by several people that she rarely attended meetings and that when she did, she was at Voldemort's side. She went missing two months before the Final Battle, and she was only ever referred to as 'Daughter'. Do you know who she is, sir, or where she could be?"

Harry knew Snape had been a spy for two decades, through two wars. He knew the man had endured more than Harry could imagine and kept his cover through it all. He knew Snape was, either by nature or espionage, a cold and guarded man. He knew all this, but he also knew he saw something in the man's eyes. It was gone too fast for him to identify it, but it was _something_. Snape _knew_ something. He had to. But the man opened his mouth to say, "I've no idea who that is. There was never any girl, Potter. Perhaps their time spent in hiding has deteriorated their minds."

Harry eyed the older man. "Are you sure? She wouldn't've been seen often. Do you remember seeing any strange women?"

"No, Potter, I don't. I do, however, think this is nothing more than a wild goose chase." He stood to leave.

"Will you let me know if you remember something?"

Snape breathed a small sigh. "Mr. Potter, allow me to give you some advice: no one can truly disappear. If she was… real, she would have revealed herself. No one can stay hidden for so long without someone discovering them. Unless of course, the only thing to discover is a body. You say she disappeared in March of last year. Why would she go into hiding when, by all accounts, the Dark Lord was set to conquer the wizarding world? This girl is either imaginary or dead, and both are a waste of your time."

Harry nodded. "I see. Thank you for coming in, sir."

The older man glowered in response. "I am only here because my daughter all but forced me to, Mr. Potter. I would not voluntarily spend a moment with you, I'll have you know."

The younger man had the audacity to laugh as if he had been told a good joke. "Noted. How is Calypso?"

"Uninvolved," he snapped.

"Of course, sir," Harry said with a rueful smile. "Sorry for bothering you." Snape nodded sharply before striding out of the man's office.

Ten minutes later, Snape was sat in his chair in his daughter's sitting room absently sipping the tea the witch had thrust in his hands when he'd arrived. "He's looking for her," he informed her.

The girl's face remained unaffected, but her fidgeting hands betrayed her. "And how close is he to finding her?"

"Much closer than I expected," he admitted. Harry Potter had changed more than Snape had realized. Perhaps it was the war, perhaps it was his career, but the boy had matured and grown the slightest appreciation for observation and subtly. "He will, undoubtedly, reach out to the Malfoys next, though I've no idea if they will be forthcoming." The Malfoys had narrowly avoided Azkaban, but ultimately, Harry had repaid his debt to the Malfoy matriarch by speaking at their trials.

Calypso was silent for a moment. "Perhaps it would be better if they were," she said. Her father raised an eyebrow at her. "He's more tenacious than anyone gives him credit for; the Malfoys saying nothing won't deter him. He's bound to figure it out eventually. At least if his information is coming from them, we can control it a bit."

Snape nodded. "I'll write to Lucius then."

Her hands fidgetted again, and she worried with her lips for a moment. "Don't… don't tell him about me, alright?"

He eyed her briefly and nodded before rising and disappearing into his room.

* * *

 _Severus felt a weight collide with him the instant he apparated home. His hand twitched for his wand before he recognized the familiar presence. "I've been so worried, Father!" His arms went around the girl, and he heard her sniffle. After a while, she broke the hug and began inspecting the man. "Are you alright? Has he done anything to you? Have you been eating enough? You look a little thinner."_

 _"I'm fine,_ _daughter. How long have you been here?"_

 _She looked away shyly. "Since I found out two weeks ago."_

 _Severus fixed her with a glare. "Have you lost your mind? The Dark Lord knows I live here; he could have sent someone here at any time," he scolded. "You could have been killed! I sent you away for a reason."_

 _"I know, but I had to see you! You never sent me anything. How was I supposed to know if you were even alive?"_

 _"You_ assume, _" he hissed. "This is war. We can't be careless anymore, and you can't be here."_

 _"What am I supposed to do then? Go back to my apprenticeship and act like nothing's wrong? Like my father couldn't die at any moment? I can't just do that! I've been doing calculations, trying to figure out how this is all going to end, and none of it is good! There are too many variables, too many unknowns. I just want you to be okay. I just want you to live." Severus watched the first tear fall from her eyes and drew her into another hug, ignoring the growing damp spot on his shirt._

 _"Arithmancy cannot give you a clear outcome. You know this. There is no use working yourself into a fit over possibilities," he said gently, stroking the girl's hair._

 _"I don't know what else to do," she mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm worried for you."_

 _Severus pulled her back and looked into her tear-stained face. She met his eyes with her own brown ones. He was reminded of a far simpler time when she was a child and there was no Dark Lord to deal with. "I know you are. I am worried for you as well. Nevertheless, you can't come here anymore. You will have to presume I am, at the very least, alive. Just as I will have to do with you."_

 _She nodded miserably. "When will I see you again?"_

 _"When this is over." He spoke with an air of finality that struck her. There was to be no argument about it; she would not see her father again until the Dark Lord was defeated._

 _"Goodbye, Father."_

 _"Goodbye, Edith."_

* * *

 **So, updates might be slowing down soon. I go back to school next week, and I'm not sure how stressful everything's going to be yet. I'm going to try to update at least once before then, but we'll see.**

 **The Malfoys will be introduced in the next chapter, and a new piece to the puzzle will be revealed ;)**


	5. Chapter 4

The Malfoys looked a lot better than they had the last time Harry had seen them. Their house did too; it was much brighter than it had been when Voldemort lived there. It almost seemed inviting. A house-elf had led him to a sitting room, where all three of the Malfoys were already sat. Narcissa, ever the pleasant hostess, had offered him some tea and polite conversation. Lucius had interjected a bit, but Draco stayed silent, a troubled look on his face.

Finally, Harry broached the reason for his visit. "I have a few questions about a missing Death Eater I'm looking for," he began. He tried not to notice the way Draco stiffened at the term or the tightening of Narcissa's smile. He quickly ran through everything he knew about the girl.

He watched the Malfoy men exchange a look while Narcissa smoothed imaginary wrinkles in her robes. "I remember her," Lucius said finally.

Harry couldn't help the excitement welling within him. _Finally_. "What can you tell me about her?"

"It is true she rarely attended our gatherings. I believe I only saw her five or so times in her last year." Narcissa's hand brushed her husband's as he spoke. "She was a… personal assistant of sorts to the Dark Lord. She resided in the manor during the war. She never came down for meals; I never saw her anywhere except the meetings she attended."

"Can I see where she stayed?"

"Of course," Narcissa answered. "Draco, dear, show Mr. Potter her rooms."

Draco tensed at this but nodded. He stood and kissed his mother on the cheek before escorting Harry out of the sitting room, all with stiff movements. He led the other man through the house in silence, only turning to look at him once they'd stopped outside a door. They stood still for a few moments before Harry reached for the doorknob.

Harry didn't know what he expected of her rooms, but it certainly wasn't what he found. The room, despite being opulently decorated, was clearly a guest room. Nothing was amiss; there wasn't even a dust mote in the air. "Did she leave anything behind?"

"Not anything that survived the upheaval in trying to find her," Draco said, but his voice carried some of the bitterness he tried to hide. "They trashed the place looking for some hint of where she'd gone." His eyes swept over the room, and he seemed to be playing some memory out in his head.

"What's her name, Draco?" Harry asked it gently, as if afraid he might lash out like an animal.

The blonde looked at him and seemed to ponder what he should say. "Evangeline Kemp," he said finally, his voice soft.

"Do you know where she could be?"

Draco's eyes hardened. "She's dead, Potter." Harry was silent, and Draco sneered. "You don't really think she's alive, do you? Merlin, Potter, don't be so thick. If she were alive, she'd have been found by now."

"Funny, Snape said the same thing. 'Cept he told me told me she wasn't real."

The other man snorted, anything but amused. "He would. How'd you get him to talk to you? He hasn't bothered visiting yet."

Harry shrugged. "Said Calypso made him."

"Calypso?" Draco paused for a second, and Harry couldn't help but notice the tinge of confusion in his voice. "Ah, that explains it then. She's possibly the only person Severus listens to."

The two were quiet as they walked, and once they'd reached the front doors, Draco turned to him. "Listen, Potter, if you find her and she is alive, just know… she's not a bad person. She never was."

Draco closed the door behind Harry and leaned against it until he heard the _crack!_ of the other man disaparating. He allowed himself to stew for a minute then made his way back to his parents. They were deep in conversation when he walked in, but they stopped and looked at him expectantly. "It seems Calypso has revealed herself," he announced simply.

"How apt," Narcissa said as though disgusted by the simplicity of it.

Lucius chuckled and laced his fingers with hers. "What did you expect from a Gryffindor, love." His gaze shifted to his son. "Go write to her before you grow tiresome, Draco."

The younger man nodded. "Thank you, Father."

* * *

Harry was far more observant than most realized. He hadn't always been, but it was a necessary skill for the job of an Auror, and so he'd acquired it at some point. Harry was also not stupid. So, when he had mentioned Calypso to Draco, he'd heard the genuine confusion in his voice. The other man had hidden it fairly well, he supposed, under curiosity, but Harry had heard it. And now, he wanted to know why he was confused.

So, when he'd gone to the records to make a copy of Evangeline Kemp's file, he made a copy of Calypso's as well and shrunk it into his pocket. He would look it over later and try to suss out any irregularities. He exchanged the usual pleasantries with Miss Wright as he left. Harry thought she looked a little pale, and her banter was lacking. "Why don't you go home and rest? You don't look too well," he suggested gently.

Miss Wright sent him a weak smile. "Oh, I'll be alright. Just a bit of a headache. Nothing a potion and some tea won't cure."

She shooed him away after that, and Harry took the file to his office to read.

Evangeline Kemp, it seemed, was an accomplished arithmancer. She obtained her mastery three years after graduating from Durmstrang and three months before she was first seen at Voldemort's side. Overall, her file contained far less than he'd hoped for. A deed stated she owned a house in Wales - information he set aside to look into further. Looking into her family yielded little, just that she was the daughter of a half-blood and a muggle-born that had fled to the states to escape the war. Still, that begged the question, why would the daughter of a muggle-born join Lord Voldemort? Harry didn't have enough information to answer that yet, and the headache he earned trying to made him put the papers down.

Making a note to form a party to search Kemp's house later, he set her file aside and dug Calypso's out of his pocket. There was something going on with that woman, and Harry would figure it out if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

 _Edith,_

 _Potter told me all about your ploy. Not in so many words, mind you. Potter's not that bright. He did tell me about Calypso, though. Don't think I haven't figured it out._

 _I must say, I'm almost hurt that you have yet to contact me. That's quite rude, you know. You've only made me believe you to be dead for nearly a year. I would like you to visit me at the Manor. I suspect Mother and Father would appreciate a visit as well. It's really the least you could do. I'll see you soon._

 _Draco_

* * *

 _Evangeline was dismissed with a wave of his hand. She bowed and walked calmly out of the room. Once she was out of sight, her air of tranquility evaporated, and she had a lean against the wall to steady herself. That was by far the most nerve-wracking experience of her life. She had met with the man before, but that was the first time she'd been surrounded by all of them. She'd endured their suspicious looks, their empty and threatening smiles, and their hollow, mad, and unhinged eyes. Those eyes would haunt her, she knew._

 _But she couldn't think about that at that moment. There were far more important things she needed to tackle before she began to sort through how all of this was going to affect her, one of which being how it was going to affect_ him _._

 _She could see him further down the hall, but he moved with less purpose than he had the last time she had seen him. He seemed… hesitant._ Good _, she thought._ I can work with that. _She made her way to him._

 _He looked up as her shadow came into his line of sight. A sneer twisted his face, and he grabbed her arm and practically dragged her into the nearest room. He closed the door behind them and put up a silencing spell for good measure before turning to face her. "What do you think you're doing here?"_

 _Evangeline stared at him, trying to find something to tell him. He glared at her, his eyes hard. She almost flinched."I-I… I had to do something."_

 _Draco growled. "You absolute idiot. You're going to get yourself killed. Just - fuck!" He turned away from her, and the brunette watched as he forced himself to relax, his fists unclenching. Finally, he faced her again, and though he still glared at her, his eyes had softened enough that she could see his worry. "I thought you were going to listen to Severus for once. I thought you were going to stay away from all of this."_

 _"I can't," she said softly. "I can't sit back. Draco, I'm a target whether I stay out of this or not." She moved toward him and placed a hand on his arm, right where she knew that awful mark blemished his skin. "What about you? I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions. I chose this. You're a child, Draco."_

 _The blonde wrenched his arm away from her. The hardness came back into his eyes. "I don't have a choice regardless. It was always going to lead to this. I am proud to serve the Dark Lord."_

 _"You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can't lie to me, Draco Malfoy. I've known you since you were ten years old," she hissed._

 _"You don't know anything!"_

 _"I know you're not a killer. He's given you a suicide mission! Can't you see that? There's no way you can kill-"_

 _"I have to!" The boy roared. "Don't you get it? My father failed him, and now it's my job to pick up the bloody pieces. I have to." He sounded broken, and Evangeline couldn't help but move closer and reach out to him again. He didn't so much as flinch this time. "If I fail, he'll kill Mother. And me, of course."_

 _"Oh, Draco," Evangeline breathed, pulling the boy into her arms. He leaned into the embrace and sagged, suddenly seeming years younger. "Severus has made an Unbreakable Vow with your mother to help you. You won't fail."_

 _Draco nearly cried at those words but remained still and silent. After a few moments, he finally asked, "Is she safe?"_

 _He wasn't speaking about his mother, and she knew it. "Yes."_

 _"Thank Merlin, you Gryffindors are trying."_

 _"She's a Hufflepuff."_

 _"Even more tedious."_

* * *

 **Calypso has hit 500 views, and I want to thank everyone for reading! I'd also really appreciate some feedback, so please let me know what you guys think! I'm going to try to get another chapter out really soon, hopefully tomorrow or the day after that. Byeeee!**


	6. Chapter 5

_"Hello, gentlemen," she greeted, hopping up to sit on the counter. She let her feet swing and fiddled with her wand. "I wish you had given me some notice. I'd have made the place a little more presentable." She made a show of looking around the orderly - if slightly dusty - room._

 _Both of the men sent her threatening looks, and one of them raised his wand to her. "We've been instructed to return you to the Dark Lord," he hissed._

 _"It's a shame I do not wish to return."_

 _"You've got no choice," the other said._

 _Evangeline smiled at them. "Expelliarmus." The first man's wand landed in her waiting hand. "There is always a choice, gentlemen. My choices are to go with you, or I can fight you. Your choices, however, are to leave empty-handed, or..." Her smile turned into a smirk, and she drummed the two wands on her thighs. "You can die."_

* * *

Harry Potter arrived at Evangeline Kemp's residence accompanies by some of the best of his coworkers. What greeted them was what had once been a cheery little cottage. Now, however, it was nothing but rubble, a hole blown into the side of it. Harry and the other Aurors fanned out, searching the property before entering what was left of the house.

The entryway was mostly intact. It was simply decorated with only a table by the door. They looked over each room. The kitchen and dining room had been blown to smithereens. The wall between the two rooms had collapsed, and Harry and two of the other Aurors stepped over the rubble into the kitchen. Immediately, all three noticed the rust-red stains on nearly every surface. A quick spell confirmed their suspicions: it was blood.

The three fanned out across the room, vanishing and moving debris until one of them stumbled upon a body. A charred, decayed body. The body lay rigid and straight, burned to a crisp and under a full body-bind curse that had likely been cast before death. The remains were male according to the diagnostic charm, so they were not, in fact, looking at Evangeline Kemp's corpse. So, who was this? Whose blood adorned the walls? Was it his? Evangeline Kemp's? Someone else? What happened here?

A few more spells determined that the blood belonged to a male, but it was not from the corpse on the floor. Another Auror shouted as he uncovered a small pile of decay that was all that was left of a second person. It was this person whose blood was spattered everywhere, done in by a blasting curse. Had Evangeline Kemp killed them? It seemed likely; two people found dead in her house. But Malfoy had told Harry she wasn't a bad person, but surely only a bad person would do this? Then again, why should he trust Malfoy's judgement? _Because he looked so sure,_ Harry thought. Malfoy was so adamant that Kemp wasn't bad. Harry had never seen that kind of honest conviction from him before. Did he know about this?

Harry went through the rest of the investigation with wooden motions, his mind busy mulling over this new piece. Something seemed off to him. He searched the rest of the house. A few rooms were in disarray, as if someone had ransacked them. However, there was too little in the rooms to create a proper mess. In fact, the whole house was nearly bare. Harry was sure no one could live in such a spartan home.

At the end of it, he went back to his office to tackle the pile of paperwork the search had generated and to deal with the nagging feeling that he was missing something crucial to it all.

* * *

The _Ministry is seeking any information leading to the finding and arrest of Evangeline Kemp. Kemp is wanted under suspicion of Death Eater affiliation and the murders of two unidentified victims. Kemp is suspected to be a previously unknown Death Eater. She is thought to have held a high position within the group. She is believed to be armed and dangerous. She..._

 _Any information should be addressed to Auror Harry Potter in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Office._

* * *

Severus set the paper down with a thoughtful look on his face. Calypso, having already read it, met his eyes. She'd stayed perfectly still with her head propped on her hand while he read. The man sighed and turned back to his book. "You knew this was coming, Calypso." She gave no acknowledgement to his words, save for a few rapid blinks. "Did you expect it to be hidden forever? That everything would be fine, and no one would ever think the name Evangeline Kemp again?"

"Of course not," the woman hissed, snapping out of her stillness. She straightened in her chair and sent Severus a glare. "We prepared for this, didn't we? I just… it's been so long. I guess I got hopeful. Forgive me." She snarled the last part, though her anger wasn't meant for him, and he knew it.

His eyes softened ever so slightly. "Everything will be fine. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

"She worries far too much."

"She cares about you."

"I know."

* * *

The woman threw the paper down with such ferocity that it tore in her hand. The men around her flinched. "It's bad enough Snape is alive and free. I always knew he was a traitor. But now they're saying that _brat_ is still out there?!"

The men exchanged a look, all equally nervous and tense. "Wh-" Her husband began.

"Evangeline Kemp. _Daughter_ ," the woman hissed. "She's alive. I _knew_ it. Those two imbeciles he sent to get her never came back." Her voice grew quiet as she muttered to herself. "I think it's time. We can announce ourselves and eliminate those two in one fell swoop."

* * *

Harry arrived home two hours after his usual time, collapsing on the couch with a groan. The day had, in all honesty, been a shitshow consisting of following leads that went nowhere and an especially irritating conversation with Draco Malfoy, wherein he stubbornly refused to say anything past what he already had. He'd told him again that Kemp wasn't a bad person. Not that she was good, not that she was innocent. Just not bad. How very reassuring.

He told as much to Ron and Hermione, who'd already been in the living room when he stepped out of the fireplace. "He said he didn't know the full story, but he wouldn't tell me what he did know," he complained. "And all the information people have sent is useless. One man was convinced his neighbor was Kemp, but Mr. Hurst had a pretty good alibi."

Hermione patted him on the arm then shot her boyfriend a glare as he snorted as Harry's frustration. "It's been less than a day, Harry. I'm sure someone will have something useful soon." Their conversation left Evangeline Kemp after that, and Harry enjoyed his friends' company.

Later that night, when Harry was getting ready to head to bed, Percy stepped in his path. "Can I talk to you, Harry?" When the younger man nodded, Percy led him onto the porch. "I think Kemp may have more victims," he said without preamble.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"One of Kemp's victims was put under a body-bind curse and set on fire, yes?" Harry nodded again. "I know of another case with the same cause of death. A whole family, the Phillips, husband and wife, their four kids, daughter-in-law, and grandchild. They were murdered in the summer of 1996. The wife was a muggleborn."

"That was right around when Kemp became a Death Eater."

"Yes. There are two other families that were killed the same way, but the Phillips were the first. I'd look into all three."

Harry thought for a moment. "Why are you so interested in the Phillips?"

Percy fiddled with his wand. "I knew one of them, one of the daughters. She was in my year, was a prefect with me. Ariel was… a friend. It hit me hard. It made me realize how serious the war was. And then her best friend died two months later. They didn't deserve what they got. So, if Ariel's murderer is still out there, I want justice for her."

* * *

 **I'm sorry you guys had to wait so long for such a shitty chapter oml. School started back up, and I severely underestimated how stressed I was gonna be. I've been back for a month, and I feel like this is the first chance I've had to breathe.**

 **We're about halfway done with Calypso now. Not sure when the next chapter will be, hopefully not a month again lol.**

 **Lemme know what you guys think! Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 6

"Busy man lately, aren't you, Mr. Potter?" The recordkeeper grinned at the man approaching her desk.

Harry returned her grin. "Never a dull moment," he agreed.

"How's the search going?"

"Alright, I suppose. No one's come up with anything useful yet. Well, maybe, I'm not sure yet. That's what I'm here to find out."

"And here I thought you just couldn't stay away from me," Miss Wright teased.

"I thought that was a given," Harry replied before slipping into the records.

It didn't take him long to find who he was looking for. He flipped through each of their files. Andrew and Jennifer Phillips had four children: Julian, Thalia, Margot, and Ariel. Julian had married a Viola Clearwater and had a daughter, Autumn. All were murdered on a late July evening, bound and burned. Their files all contained photos of the scene and of their charred remains. Harry's stomach turned.

Harry saved Ariel's for last. He didn't want to think about their connection - Percy. He didn't want to think about how they'd walked the same halls for three years, that he might recognize her face. When he finally opened her file, he nearly dropped it. He did indeed recognize her face. She was different. Blonde instead of brunette. Her features had been altered slightly, but it was her.

When Harry had sent the information for the article to the Daily Prophet, he had forgone the photo. There was one photo of Kemp in her file, and she had fled out of the frame after a few seconds - just long enough for him to get a good look at her. She'd remained absent as he compiled the rest his research, and when spells failed to keep her in the photo, he'd sent the information without it.

Now, he wondered what Percy would think. He would have recognized her, of course. How would he feel, knowing the girl he believed to be dead for the last two and half years was in fact still alive or at least had been for nearly two years afterward? How would he feel, knowing the girl he wanted justice for was a murderer, maybe even the murderer he sought?

Harry watched the girl in the photo as she smiled shyly and hovered around the edge of the frame. Evangeline Kemp didn't kill Ariel Phillips; she _was_ Ariel Phillips.

Harry rubbed at his forehead as he processed this. After a few minutes, during which Ariel - Evangeline - had escaped the frame, he began to flip through the rest of her file. She had trained as an Obliviator, which made Harry groan internally at the discovery of another of her capabilities. Still reeling, he copied her file and tucked it into his pocket. He'd look at it alongside Evangeline Kemp's file later and try to think of how to tell Percy.

* * *

Edith shuffled up the familiar path toward the manor she spent a good deal of her childhood in. She had never been so hesitant about going inside, had never walked so slowly to it. She hadn't - couldn't have - gone to Malfoy Manor in nearly four years. She hadn't realized what Voldemort's presence had done to the place until she laid eyes on it. The house looked dreary, desolate, and dark. It was nothing like the manor she remembered with its imposing walls surrounded by an impressive and expansive garden. It was once the pinnacle of opulence, and now it just seemed sad. Though, Edith supposed, it may also have had something to do with the bruised egos of the Malfoys and their fall from grace.

Eventually, her slow pace led her to the front door, and she stood for a long moment. Before she could knock on the door, it opened. "You've been here for nearly thirty minutes, Edith," Draco said in way of greeting. His expression was expertly schooled, and Edith had a hard time finding any clues to how he was feeling. But his grip on the door handle was a little too tight, and his lips were a little too thin. He was restraining himself.

Well, she had expected him to be angry. "Draco -"

"Please come inside," he interrupted, stepping to the side.

Edith looked at him for a second before crossing the threshold into the entrance hall of the manor. She flinched as Draco closed the door with slightly more force than necessary. "Draco -"

He started walking. "My parents are expecting us in the parlor. It would be best not to keep them waiting," he said over his shoulder.

"Stop it, Draco." The man stopped but didn't turn to face her. "I know you're angry, but -"

Draco whirled around, his calm demeanor fading. "No, Edith, I don't think you know. We thought you were dead. _I_ thought you were dead. We've been best friends for as long as I can remember, and you made me think you were dead for nearly a fucking _year_."

Edith swallowed some of her emotion before she spoke. Her "I'm sorry" tore through her, ragged and sincere, and she was left trembling. Draco glared at her. "I'm so sorry. We - we couldn't tell anyone. Draco, please, you have to understand, she would've been thrown in Azkaban."

"And how exactly did you figure that one? Even Father avoided it, and he was an actual Death Eater! Ariel would've been fine!"

"Your father, and _you_ for that matter, are free because of Harry Potter's kindness! The three of you were slated to rot in that prison together! How was I supposed to predict your mother's actions during the battle? I couldn't! At least you had your fortune to give you some chance of walking free. Ariel had nothing!"

"Ariel did nothing wrong; she would have walked regardless! She was a spy and a golden little Gryffindor; they've a history of getting off scot-free!"

"Ariel was a vigilante! And she murdered those men!"

They both stilled at that, the announcement dampening their tempers and her eyes. "I know," Draco said.

"I know you know. Everyone knows. I - I'm trying to calculate how it's all going to pan out. I just want to protect her."

Draco sighed. Try as he might, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Edith had created this elaborate plan and lied to everyone - lied to _him_ \- to protect Ariel. "Why couldn't you just tell me? Even just that you were alive somewhere. I'd have kept it a secret," he said lowly. "Did you… Did you want to shut me out?"

"Of course not, Draco, but I didn't know if your Occlumency was good enough. I tried to cal-"

"Bullshit! You know my Occlumency was good enough! Your father was the one that taught it to me. My shields nearly match his. He never would have known. What's the real reason? It's because you didn't trust me, isn't it? You wanted me to believe it, didn't you?"

Edith's face flushed with anger, and she was nearly vibrating. Still, though, she managed to keep a fairly even voice when she spoke, "You really think I _wanted_ to trick you? To make you think I was dead? To _hurt you_? I never wanted that, Draco. Don't you dare tell me I did," she finished in a hiss.

"Then what were you trying to do? I'd have kept the fucking secret. I'd have kept you and Ariel safe if you had just _told_ me. Why did you never contact me?"

"If you hadn't noticed," she said slowly, "the person I was trying to escape was in _your house_."

"Afterwards. I meant afterwards. Why didn't you contact me in the seven months after he was gone?"

Edith paused for a moment, then fidgeted and shuffled, suddenly unsure. "Because," she started, her voice softer than before. "At first, we just tried to keep anyone from finding out. We were both considered dead. It would've been suspicious if we just showed back up once he was gone. But… but then, I was scared. I was so scared. I hadn't seen you in so long. I didn't know if you were still my Draco. I couldn't be sure you hadn't changed, and I didn't want to know if you had. I didn't want you to look at me like you hated me. I couldn't handle that."

Draco deflated and shifter closer to the other blonde. "Edith, I could never hate you. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a sister. I just… missed you."

A tear fell from the woman's eye, and she moved closer until she could rest her head on his shoulder, and their arms came around each other in an instance of muscle memory that nearly four years apart couldn't get rid of. They hugged in the same way they had since they were children, if slightly awkward with how much Draco had grown in those years. He'd never been taller than her before. Edith sniffled and cried, and Draco's hand came up to rub the back of her head as he always had when he comforted her.

"I am sorry," she said after a while. "I didn't want to keep it from you for so long, but -"

"I'll forgive you if you promise not to do it again and if we can end the sentimental shit for now."

She gave a weak laugh. "Alright."

They separated, and Draco put an appropriate distance between them, falling back into his pureblood manners. "Come now, Mother and Father have likely grown impatient." The woman wiped at her face to remove any trace of her tears. "You look fine. You'll probably just cry over the tea anyhow. Hufflepuffs _are_ more emotional," he teased with a smirk and held out an arm for her.

Edith whacked the proffered limb, and Draco laughed. "Better than emotionally constipated," she shot back.

He snorted. "Hardly."

* * *

Calypso felt it when the wards tripped. Like a buzz that ran through her body, she knew the instant that someone crossed the threshold of her apartment. She also knew exactly who that someone was and cursed. They thought they'd have a bit more time. She stood, and the other two occupants of the room lifted their heads. "It seems Mr. Potter has come to collect me," she announced.

Severus gave her a small nod. Beside him, Edith worried her bottom lip. "One second," the woman said, digging through her pile of parchment. "Let me just work out the odds."

Her father put his hand over hers just before quill touched parchment, halting her movement. "You have already calculated them. Several times. It is of no use to do so now."

"I will be arrested," Calypso said casually, watching the other woman. "I will be questioned. I will be put on trial. I'll probably go to Azkaban. I know exactly how this will go, Edith. It's okay. I've made my peace with it." She crossed to where father and daughter sat and came to stand in front of Edith. Calypso tilted the other girl's head up and looked into her tear-filled eyes. Both of the Hufflepuff's hands wrapped around her wrist, holding on for dear life. "You can predict my future, calculate every possibility, but you can't control it, Edith. I will go and accept whatever fate awaits me."

Calypso made to pull away, but Edith tightened her grip. "No! No, there has to be something… something we can do to increase your odds of freedom. What if you just don't go? There's no way Potter can find the cottage. We'll be safe here."

"No, we won't," Calypso said gently. "Potter's at my apartment. He's already connected it all. Time's running out. If I don't leave now, it'll just escalate. It'll be like Sirius Black all over again. None of us will be able to show our faces, neither in the wizarding world nor the muggle one. We'll be fugitives confined to this cabin. I have to go, Edith."

The other woman exhaled a shaky sob and slumped in her seat. Calypso eased her arm out of her grasp and placed a hand on each of Edith's cheeks. "We knew this was going to catch up to us someday. You've done so much for me. You're my best friend, the only family I have left. I love you, but I have to do this." She kissed the weeping woman's forehead then retreated, heading for the front door.

When she reached it, she turned to Severus, who had followed her. She gave the man a tentative hug, and he wrapped his arms around her for a proper one. "You're afraid," he noted.

"Terrified," she agreed. She gazed down the hallway, where her best friend had brought her legs up to hug them to her chest. "I know you will, but take care of her, please."

"Of course," he said. The were silent for a moment, during which Calypso gathered her Gryffindor courage. "You are aware, I am sure, that I have considered you a daughter for some time."

The declaration coaxed a fleeting grin from the woman. "I know, and I have considered you a father." She pulled the door open and stepped out into the chilly February air before Apparating to the tiny apartment she rented for these exact circumstances.

She appeared in the sparsely furnished bedroom, the door to which had been left open, showing Harry Potter seated at her dining room table. She approached him with as much confidence as she could muster. "Mr. Potter, I'm afraid I wasn't expecting you. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Harry stood, wand in hand. "Petrificus totalus." Calypso made no move to shield herself and froze, calm and unfazed. Harry approached her and raised her sleeve, revealing the fading but unmistakable Dark Mark branded on her forearm. "Ariel Phillips, you're under arrest for Death Eater affiliation and murder."

* * *

Calypso was taken to the Ministry, where she was released from the curse only to have her wand taken from her and her limbs shackled. She was placed in a nondescript room, not the cell she expected. She sat in one of the chairs and examined her bound arms. She had lowered her sleeve again as soon as she could, covering the ugly mark on her skin, but she couldn't help but feel disgusted with it. She always had, of course, but she was surrounded by people who knew it was there and did not know her true feelings for the first time in a year. In that year, the only time she had ever acknowledged the foul mark was at night, after Edith had retired, when she and Severus drank to forget everything they had experienced because of it and the man that had put it there.

She didn't look up from her covered arm until the door opened, and Harry Potter stepped into the room. She watched him as he crossed the room and sat in the other chair, placing the files he was carrying on his lap. Harry looked at her with cold eyes, and she held his stare. "Calypso, 'she who hides,'" he began. "You've done a remarkable job of that, by the way. You hid Ariel Phillips while you were Evangeline Kemp, and now you're hiding both of them."

"Clever, wasn't it? I thought it was rather amusing myself. How'd you figure it all out?"

"It was more difficult to link Calypso to Ariel and Evangeline than it was to connect the other two," Harry admitted. "Ariel and Evangeline looked too similar. I knew they were the same person immediately. With Calypso, I had to do some digging." Harry began leafing through the file. "Did you know that no one named Calypso Snape has ever attended Beauxbatons? Or Hogwarts or Ilvermorny or any other magical school I could fine. What's more, a Calypso Snape has never sat O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. exams, and yet, you have scores on file. Scores that are oddly similar to the deceased best friend of Ariel Phillips."

Calypso nearly flinched at that. Harry noticed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Care to tell me what you've done with Edith Clarke?"


End file.
